


Mirror

by KarkaHatchlings



Series: Guild Wars 2 Interstitial [11]
Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game), Guild Wars Series (Video Games)
Genre: Backstory, Competition, Conversations, Fluff, Gen, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 20:35:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15692907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarkaHatchlings/pseuds/KarkaHatchlings
Summary: A sylvari and asura pair preen themselves in preparation for a party.





	Mirror

Purple lights glimmered and rippled, reflected in silvered glass.  The sylvari sighed dramatically, discarding another set of tiny illusionary alterations to her finely-featured visage, leaving the delicate ridges decorating her chin and eyes to stand on their own once more.  It was the third such revision, Mippa counted angrily to herself, fantasizing about kicking the beautiful blush-colored creature in her tapering and artfully bare shins.

"I suppose," drawled the sylvari, treating each word to a languid caress, "there's just no improving it."  She ran elegant fingers over her long mane of petals to arrange it, then smiled down at Mippa before making a tiny bow and stepping out of the way.

"Thank you for your patience.  See you at the party!" With a nod to the other sylvari present and a curt greeting of "sister," she swept across the upstairs room of the Lion's Shadow, hips swaying rather more than strictly necessary.  Pausing at the head of the stairs, she descended with the gravitas of an actress hearing her cue.

The asura watched her go, almost too furious to scowl, then pushed over the chair she had waiting so she could use the mirror.  Hopping up, Mippa nudged the glass slightly to tip it for a better angle and gave herself a hard look. "Who," she demanded, "was that anyway, and how do they know the guild leader?"

Biwt glanced over at her guildmate, having barely spared attention for the other sylvari.  "Feyneth? One of his old contacts, I think. He's sold artifacts in every corner of Tyria; it's hard to keep track of everyone he knows."

Mippa's lambent eyes glared at Biwt from the mirror.  "I've never seen her before."

The sylvari's shrug in reply dislodged the raven perched on her shoulder.  It lofted with a squawk before alighting on the rim of the mirror. "It was a long time ago.  Perhaps only Garbrech and the siblings have known him as long." 

Biwt sauntered over, stooping to make use of the mirror as well.  "And I met him when he was running supplies for the Pact in Orr at the Battle of the Waters.  This was before he met Pleek." Mention of the other asura brought a renewed twist of displeasure to Mippa's mouth.  She excised it for the moment with a forced grin and examined her teeth in the reflection. Straight, clean, and sharp, just like they ought to be.  Unlike everything else.

"They met on some other battlefield, I think," the sylvari continued, pursing her cleft lips and touching her own short foliage in tentative imitation of Feyneth.  The gesture appeared aimless, the purpose of it somewhat lost on her. Despite that, her voice had a wistful edge. "Perhaps they fought back to back, or one saved the life of the other.  It must have been something significant."

A snort was all Mippa could manage for a moment.  She was too busy poking recalcitrant tufts back into her carefully wound hair.  Every prod with her fingertip, however, brought a new emergence from the buns. Finally, she blew a frustrated puff of air, fluttering her barely-kept fringe.  "Pleek," she growled, "pretending she doesn’t care how she looks, strutting around in her armor, shaking her long ears."

"They are very long," agreed the sylvari, straightening up again.

"They're beautiful," Mippa said, breathless with envy.  Giving up on her hair, she tugged one of her own ears. When she let go, it remained small and thin.  Not an unexpected result, of course, but an unhappy one all the same. She wrinkled her button snout in dismay, sharp teeth clicking together to bite back an imprecation.

Croaking at her in what she was positive was avian mockery, the raven bobbed its head up and down.  With a sidelong glance at the sylvari, she surreptitiously flicked a finger at Biwt’s bird, the jolt of chilly magic startling it from its perch.  It circled the room, shedding feathers and indignant cries, before swooping back down. Mippa covered her head, wobbling atop her own perch, but the raven just landed atop the looking glass, cocking its sleek black head and showing an evil glint in its eye.

“Allain, no,” the rebuke by Biwt was sharp, and was answered by another impudent croak.  The bird folded its wings, however, settling once more.

“I don’t know why I even try,” grumbled the asura, her attention on the merciless mirror again, “there’s no one to look good for.”  The sullen tone left it in doubt she was positive she could if there was.

“Our lifestyle doesn’t lend itself to courtship, I think,” Biwt had paused a moment in contemplation before speaking, “or to personal grooming.”

“Don’t even for a second!” retorted Mippa, planting balled fists on her hips, “they pulled you off the vine looking like that.  You don’t even have to try either. And besides, there’s that wolfish-looking sylvari... Neyalic. Or the human. They go all gooey over your kind, too.”

“Neraric’s love is the Mistwar,” a sad shake of her head conveyed volumes of the sylvari’s disapproval, “and you can’t possibly mean Charter.”  She didn’t dispute the other accusations.

“No, the younger, stupider one.”

“Oh, Hale,” Biwt’s rough-textured shoulders lifted and fell, “poor Hale, having his thunder stolen like this.”  It was obvious from the gesture and the change of subject that her concerns were far away from the asura’s.

Mippa allowed herself an amused giggle at their guildmate’s misfortune.  “He’ll survive. Maybe someday he’ll have something to brag about, too.” She didn’t sound as if she thought it likely.

In the following silence between the pair, the sounds of conversation from the tavern crept up the stairs, soft enough that the breakers on the cliff below the inn were still audible in counterpoint.  “I wish I didn’t have to worry.” Mippa indicated the mirror only minutely, ashamed at the admission.

“Then why do you?” the sylvari’s curiosity was guileless as always.

The obvious question, never mind how it was too probing for polite conversation, earned an exasperated stamp from the asura, delaying any reply a moment while she regained her balance on the chair.  “Because!” she huffed and would have stopped there but for Biwt’s look of bland interest.

“Because being the smartest isn’t enough, sometimes,” she squeaked in frustration before managing to even out her voice, “I have to be the best.  Everyone does, even if they don’t admit it. Why does Chalice try to boss everyone around, or all but drag conquests off to bed? Why does Garbrech lumber around like a cutlery cabinet, looking down on everyone from that helmet?  Why does Charter hold his tongue like every word costs him a silver to speak? Why are you so on about the dragons all the time, as if you’re going to single-handedly save the world?”

“Actually, it’s because the world does need sav--” began Biwt, about to launch into a calm, inspirational speech the asura had heard a dozen times already.

“Stuff it,” the sylvari didn’t look any more offended by the interruption than by the insinuation she was an obsessed bore in the first place, “and why does nothing seem to touch Pleek and the only thing she cares about is keeping her sword sharp and living out the day?”

“Everyone wants to be the best, and there’s only room for one.”  Her voice fell to unfamiliar softness. With a last scowl at her reflection, she sighed, seeming to come to the same conclusion as Feyneth.

Another high-pitched asura voice cut through the chatter echoing around the common room.  “Hurry up!” Pleek called insistently from the foot of the stairs, “Charter’s probably talking to the djinn right now, and I’m not going to miss it.”

Mippa’s rude gesture wouldn’t be seen by its intended recipient, but it at least made her feel better.  “We’re coming!”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in /gw2g/.
> 
> Events and locations referenced here correspond to in-game events and locations: prior to the destruction of Lion's Arch in Scarlet's War, there was a Lion's Shadow Inn with an upper room. Reference is made to utilization of the Mystic Forge.


End file.
